Sherlock One shots and Imagines

The guest - Part 1 - Sherlock x Reader

(Y/n) sat in the front room of her apartment. The old sofa that she had always described being like a cloud, enveloped her as she sat in her usual spot surrounded by cushions, and her favourite blanket; her hands gripping at the mug of hot cocoa that had one pink and one white marshmallow floating on top.

It had been her day off, a day when she had done absolutely nothing but sit in front of the fire and read one of the books that had wanted to start long ago. Her occasionally glances up at the windows that were covered in a layer of snow in the corners, making her happy at the notion that she had not had to trudge through the drifts and put up with an entire day of Donovan and Anderson ogling one other, before she trudged home again. And even though she knew that she would have to face it when she did get back to the Yard, the thought that she had at least one more day off, before the horrors of that little affair, made her want to throw up into nearest paper bin, made it seem not as bad.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. Her eyes rolling at the sound. It not that she minded having an uninvited visitor, it just that it meant that she had to move from the warmth; but as long as it wasn't Sherlock that had come to call, then she was sure that she could put up with someone else. (Y/n) chuckling at the idea that Sherlock Holmes, the Sherlock Holmes; the all-around big head and smart arse, would care to know where some lowly detective like her, would live; never mind would come calling out of the blue, as she made her way to the door.

"Sh.......Sherlock!" (Y/n) exclaimed, as she opened the door to find the younger Holmes on her doorstep with a small bag.

"You have forgotten........"

"What? No.......no I haven't forgotten........." (Y/n) retorted, as he pushed his way passed her. The detective racking her brain for a moment, as she tried to recall why Sherlock would say that. Mentally face palming as she recalled the discussion yesterday in Greg's office.

It seemed that given the weather, a pipe in Sherlock's flat had burst and he had needed somewhere to stay; well, he needed somewhere to stay now that he had outlived his welcome at John and Mary's place. (Y/n) sure that given the look on the poor doctor's face, Mary must had told him that she wanted Sherlock gone, or he might just have found himself sleeping on the sofa with the younger Holmes. Either that, or the doghouse. So, when the subject was brought up and everyone else did anything they could but look at the consulting detective, (Y/n) had found the words leaving her lips before she could stop herself. Found herself offering that he could sleep on her sofa until the flat was livable again. John giving her one of his thank you, apologetic looks; and Greg staring at her like she had grown another head. Her boss knowing full well that even though she thought better of Sherlock than either Anderson or Donovan, she did still have a tendency of clashing with man. But, she had offered, and he was there now; so, it wouldn't be right to kick him out of the door. Though, as he threw all her well placed cushions onto the floor, before he dropped himself onto the sofa, she was beginning to rethink that.

"Its lumpy." Sherlock commented, as he bounced up and down a little. Prodding at the seat beneath, him like he was touching something awful.

"Well, I am terribly sorry, that my sofa isn't up to your standards. If you don't like it, maybe you could stay with...........oh yes, that's right, I forgot, no one else wanted to help you; not even your own brother, according to John. But I am sure that the Ritz would be able to find you a suitable suite for exactly the same price that you are paying to stay here........which is nothing, by the way." (Y/n) scoffed, as she dropped herself into the chair. Happy to see that her retort had shut Sherlock up for two seconds. Letting out a heavy sigh, before she reached out and picked up her cup; internally groaning as she noted that her once fluffy and buoyant marshmallows, had now sunk to the bottom of her mug.

"I would love a cup of tea." Sherlock suddenly remarked, as he watched her bring her drink up to her lips.

"That's nice. Kitchen is just over there; mugs are in the top right-hand cupboards and teabags are in the top left. I am sorry that I don't have a fine bone China tea service, but I really wasn't all that prepared for royalty coming around. And may I also say, that when I said that you could sleep on my sofa until your place was fixed, it didn't mean that I would be your servant. So, if you are expecting bows and tugging of forelocks every time you pass, you have another thing coming." (Y/n) told him. Her teeth gritting as he let out a sigh and pushed himself to his feet. The detective not surprised that Mary had wanted him out of her house, as quickly as she could talk John into it.

For the second time, a knock came to the door; (Y/n) quickly getting to her feet; sure, that if she opened it to find Mycroft with a bag, then she would just move out and leave the pair to it. Her frown replaced with a smile, as she opened the door to find a rather handsome man with her takeout order in his hands. (Y/n) sure that he was going to say something until his eyes grew wide at something that had just appeared over her shoulder, and he scurried off.

"What's that..........?" (Y/n) nearly bumping into Sherlock, as she turned around. The detective not sure how John had got a girlfriend, never mind a wife, when cock blocker Holmes was always around.

"This, is my dinner." She replied, as she made her way over to the coffee table and opened the bag, and pulled out the silver containers. Looking up, as she heard a strange sound. Sherlock pretending that his stomach hadn't just growled loudly, as he retook his seat on the sofa.

"If you are hungry, you can have some. I always get extra, so there will be enough for both of us." (Y/n) said, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time since Sherlock had stepped foot into the place.

"I am fine.........."

"Yeah, sure. And that noise had nothing to do with you. Just sit there, and I will go and get some plates." She continued, before heading for the kitchen. Her eyes looking back at the consulting detective who had begun to take the lids off the food and was scrutinizing her order. (Y/n) getting an awful feeling that this was not only going to be a very long night, but a very long stay.